Dixon Hill's Excellent Adventure
by Chalicewell
Summary: Q tries to help Jean Luc, but does Q ever help anyone? Jean Luc will find out!
1. Chapter 1

_**Q helps Jean Luc find something he's lost—but will his alter-ego Dixon Hill be up to the task?**_

Chapter One—What the Q?

The Enterprise moved through the darkness of space, illuminated only by the stars streaking by. Jean Luc Picard, the captain, paused at a port window to watch for a moment. It was ship's night, and the Delta shift had just started. Picard turned and strode resolutely down the corridor his quarters, thinking about nothing.

The doors swished and he found himself in darkness. "Computer, lights 25%." Picard pulled off his tunic and threw it toward the recycler, missing it completely. "Damn." he muttered under his breath. That was how the whole day had gone.

Not that there was anything wrong with the day. The problem was Picard himself. He replicated a cup of tea and sat in the near-darkness. It was a little over three months since Nella Darren had transferred off the Enterprise. He had loved her in his way, and now he was lonely. And bored …. very bored. His life should have been more exciting than most people's, but something was missing.

Nella gave him companionship and he didn't always have to be the captain around her. She made him laugh, teased him and cared for him. They had music in common, and if she wasn't exactly who his heart desired, at least she was a reasonable substitute. Picard sighed as he sipped his tea.

Since Nella left there a lovely lieutenant in Systems Ops that had been flirting with him every time he was in Ten Forward. Picard had been around enough to know what that was about, but a meaningless fling was not what he wanted—not to mention it would undermine morale and was frowned upon by Starfleet. After all, he was not a cadet anymore.

Picard picked up a padd and tried to read about the latest archeological finds on Seti Minor, but failed to hold his interest. He got up and paced the room. The thoughts he tried to push away all day came rushing in. It was what Beverly had said that morning after the staff meeting. Picard had asked her to accompany him to Data's latest recital, and she had turned him down. She said she had made other plans. The small smile she gave him didn't reach her eyes and she quickly left the room.

He realized then that he had been so taken up with his disappointment over Nella that he was losing his best friend. He had not seen much of Beverly, but thought that they would continue on as before. Dammit, that's why he was interested in Nella in the first place. He loved Beverly, but didn't want to damage the tenuous balance of their relationship. Nella offered him what Beverly couldn't, but in the end it wasn't enough.

He wanted Beverly back. If he couldn't have her love, then her friendship would suffice, but the look in her eyes this morning didn't leave him much hope things could go back to the way they were. Picard leaned back and closed his eyes. His mind went around and around, but no ideas came to him. It was time for bed.

A flash of light announced he was not alone, and Q appeared sitting on one of the chairs, wearing a Starfleet uniform, his feet stretched out on the coffee table. "Ah, mon capitaine, it's good to see you. Oh, you don't look well." Q tilted his head as he regarded the captain.

"Thank you for your observation, Q. Now get out of here and off my ship." Picard growled, too tired to yell.

"Hmmf, can't you think of anything different to say? Here I am, being extraordinarily patient, willing to assist you in your time of trouble and all you do is repeat yourself."

"Q, I'm tired, and in no mood for your games. I don't need any help from you."

"Au contraire, Jean Luc. It's obvious to me that even your tiny little brain has finally come to the end of its abilities. You are suffering from ennui, and I've come to relieve you of this tedium." Q looked pleased with himself.

"Q, I'm just tired at the moment. We're going to the Tilonus system, and I'm busy preparing for that. " Picard said wearily. "There won't be anything there to interest you, I'm sure."

"Very well, Jean Luc," Q said mockingly, "I'll go, since I have many other things to attend to. But, I'll be watching . . . ." Q flashed away and the room was quiet and dark once again. Picard shook his head. He would alert the command staff that the intergalactic pest had appeared, but hoped he would stay away. That kind of excitement was not what Picard needed now.

TBC

_**Next, what is Q up to?**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks for reading and reviewing, now we can see what Q is up to ~~~~~~**_

Chapter Two—Where in the World

Picard attended Data's concert the following night, accompanied by Counselor Troi. Deanna noticed the captain's quiet mood, but was unable to get him to talk with her. Knowing when to pick her battles, she decided to leave him alone for the present.

Beverly didn't attend the recital, telling Data she was working on a research project that needed her attention. He seemed to accept her explanation, but gave her a look that made her wonder if he knew her real reason. She might be able to hide from Data, but it was impossible to hide it from herself. She didn't want to be in a situation where she might have to see the Captain. During the working day, she only had to see him in the morning staff meeting, then she could flee to the safety of sickbay. His liaison with Commander Darren had left her confused and heartbroken. Beverly knew she had no right to be, as she had quashed any romantic relationship. She remembered when Nella Darren came to sickbay and confided she and the Captain were seeing each other, the words struck Beverly to the heart. She always thought that Jean Luc would be there for each other. Now he was in love with someone else and Beverly was left with her own pain and fear. Everyone she loved had left her, and now Jean Luc was leaving her, too. Even though Nella had transferred, it didn't lessen the betrayal she felt from him.

Picard tried several times to speak with Beverly in the days following the concert, but she always too busy, or was with a patient. He determined he would go to her quarters and confront her that evening. He was in his Ready Room when the familiar and dreaded flash of light announced Q. He was wearing a suit that Picard recognized was from 1940's era in America. "Good evening, Jean Luc" Q tipped his hat to Picard.

"Q, what do you want now?" Picard said, exasperated.

"Touchy aren't we? I'm here as promised, to assist you in your time of need."

"I've told you before, I don't need any help."

"Non, non, mon capitaine, you are suffering and I will help you. As a starship captain you command the galaxy, but you can't seem to sustain a relationship. First the lovely Vash, and now Commander Darren."

Picard said quickly, "Where is Vash? Is she all right?"

"Ah, still interested, Captain?" Q smirked, "I thought not. Vash is enjoying herself at a resort on Varidian, where she's happily digging up something or other. But let us not be distracted from our main object. Your shocking inability to keep even one woman. Tsk, tsk. Most men in your position would have one on each arm, but not you. Why even Commander Riker, boring as he is, manages better. Since you haven't had much luck, perhaps it's time to look closer to home."

"What do you mean?" Picard asked frowning, and then found himself flashed into a city setting, wearing one of his Dixon Hill suits. Q stood next to him with a satisfied look on his face.

"Q, where the hell are we?" Picard asked angrily.

"You are in the middle of one of your favorite places. You are now Mr. Dixon Hill, private detective." Q smirked.

"What? Are we on the holodeck?"

"Non, mon capitaine. We are in actual San Francisco, in umm, about 1940, by your limited earth time. I went to great trouble to arrange this, and I hope you appreciate it."

"Q, stop this," Picard fumed. "Return me to my ship. We are on a very important mission. I cannot be pulled away at your whim."

Q crossed his arms and looked at Picard in disgust. "I really don't know why I bother with you small brained humans. No one will know you are gone, you will be returned to your pitiful ship at almost the same time as you left."

They stood on the rain-slicked streets in the twilight. Picard said "What is it you want?"

"It's not what I want, but what you want. Since you did such a fine job rescuing Vash in Sherwood Forest, now you can get a chance to do the same with the good doctor."

Picard blanched. "Leave Beverly out of this, Q.

"Au contraire, Jean Luc. She is most definitely in this. Since I know how you both feel about each other, I've decided to do something to move your dreary relationship forward. It's totally beneath me, but I can sometimes be magnanimous." Q said with a supercilious air.

"Q-"

"It's truly pathetic. You care about her, love her. So what do you do? Feed her breakfast. Take her riding on the holodeck or the occasional concert. Where's the romance, the gallantry, the excitement? Then you have an affair with another woman. No wonder you've been getting nowhere all these years." Q shook his head. "Here's what you need to do, Jean Luc. The doctor is here in this time period. She doesn't have any memory of anything _but_ this time. She won't remember you, your ship or your so-called relationship. Since her fear of getting involved with you seems to be predicated on her memories, I've erased them. She will only know you as Dixon Hill. You will both stay in this time pocket until you get her to admit her love for you, in your sordid little human way." Q shuddered.

"Q, this is ridiculous," Picard said, "You don't have to do this. Just stop it now and get us back to the Enterprise—"

"Too late, mon capitaine. Just remember, you are starting from scratch with the doctor. It's up to you to change things. And with how long it's taken up to now, you might be here for a millennium." With that, Q disappeared in a flash of light.

"Q!" Picard yelled. His voice echoed across the buildings, as he stood alone in the lamp-lit street. He was furious that Q would dare to interfere, but had no idea how to stop it. He hated being manipulated, and had hoped that after their forest jaunt over a year ago, he wouldn't be seeing the omnipotent nuisance for a while.

Picard trudged on down the street, wondering what to do now. He looked around him. This was different from the holodeck, and suddenly he felt very alone. Beverly was supposed to be here, but he hadn't the least idea how to find her. He would wait until morning and then see what he could do. In the meantime, he had to stay somewhere. He racked his brain but couldn't remember if the books had ever mentioned where Hill lived. He did remember where Hill's office was, so he could always sleep there. Then the thought struck him he would need money to function in this era. He felt around in the pockets of his suit, and found a small metal key of some kind and a folded pouch in the pants pocket. Stopping near the light of a store, he opened it, and found a private investigator's license, as well as a card identifying him as Dixon Hill. This card said 83 W. Sonora Drive #3, which Picard assumed was his address. There were also pieces of paper printed with 5, 10 and 20 on them, which he recognized as antique earth money.

The streets were busier as he neared a well lit area with bars and restaurants. He noted the petroleum-powered vehicles racing down the streets and marveled at the detail of the place. This was far more sophisticated than any holodeck re-creation. He saw what he knew was a taxi cab, and gingerly opened the door and got in.

The driver threw down his paper, "Where to, bud?"

"Ah, 83 Sonora Drive . . . bud." Picard answered.

"Sure thing." The taxi pulled away from the curb. Picard got used to the motion after a moment and watched the city speed by the window in fascination. They reached their destination and remembering, he gave the driver some money. He pulled out the key he found and mounted the stairs to the door marked #3, figured out how to use it, and entered. It was dark and he started to ask the computer to turn up the lights. "Damn." He swore under his breath as he found a lamp and twisted the knob. The lamp glowed on, and he took in his surroundings.

It was a small place, rather dingy, with a main room, a kitchen alcove, and bedroom and bath. The furniture was old, but comfortable looking. Picard thought he would rather enjoy this if it were on the holodeck and not one of Q's inventions.

He rummaged around the kitchen looking for tea. There wasn't any, but he found a jar of something called Postum. It smelled like coffee and he decided it would have to do. He figured out how to light the stove to boil some water. Everything in this century takes twice as long to do, he mused. When he finally had it made, he sat in the chair and thought about Beverly. Q said they would stay in this time line until he got her to admit her love for him. But, if she had no memory, how could he reach her, even after he found her? He rubbed his forehead tiredly. Finally, he pulled off his clothes and got into the bed.

In the morning, Picard reflected that 20th century beds were pretty comfortable. He showered, attempted to shave with the safety razor. He didn't do too badly, only nicking himself a couple of times. The closet held a few suits, so he could wear something fresh. He had no idea what to do with the dirty clothes. That had not been mentioned in the books, so he would have to ask someone.

Picard left the apartment, and made his way down the street. He remembered that Hill always ate at a diner near his office. He found Rita's Café, and went in, sitting at the counter. The waitress came over. "Hiya, Dix. Cuppa joe?"

Picard thought, _what?_ then realized what she meant. He answered, "Yeah, sure. " She brought a mug of black liquid and put it down in front of him. She looked at him sharply. "You OK Dix?"

Picard smiled and took a sip of the coffee. "I'm fine, thanks."

"You want the usual then?"

He nodded, and tried to drink more of the steaming drink. _Didn't anyone drink tea in this century? _ Within a minute, a plate of food was placed in front of him. He had never been one for large breakfasts, but today he was hungry. When he finished most of it and had another cup of coffee, he felt ready to for whatever might happen next.

Paying his bill, he headed out into the street. He got his bearings and found the building where "his" office was located. Walking through door, marked "Dixon Hill, Private Investigations" he noted that Madeleine, his secretary was already there.

"Hi, Dix," she said looking up from her magazine.

"Good Morning. Any calls for me?"

Madeleine rolled her eyes toward the inner office. "No calls, Dix, but there's someone waiting to see you." She said in a lower tone, "She wouldn't give her name, but she's a tough cookie. Watch your caboose with that one."

"Hmmm." Picard headed for the door. He went into the office and the first thing he noticed was a shapely foot, encased in high heels, lovely legs ending in a creamy silk suit. He looked at her beautiful profile, and recognized Beverly Crusher. Her fiery hair was tamed under a smart hat with an eye veil. His smile was cut off when she looked at him.

"Mr. Hill?" She said softly. There was no recognition in her sapphire eyes. Picard was taken aback. Q warned him that Beverly wouldn't recognize him but he didn't expect it would affect him so much. It was like the past twenty years were wiped out and it twisted his heart. She had become such a part of his life since she came aboard the Enterprise. That was nowhere to be seen in this lovely woman gazing at him with the eyes of a stranger.

Beverly looked him up and down, with an appraising glance. "Mr. Hill?" she repeated.

"Yes," He pulled himself together. According to Q's game, he wasn't supposed to know her. She stood up and walked toward him and he was mesmerized by her graceful walk. "I'm Mrs. Crusher. Beverly Crusher. I need your help." She seemed amused at his obvious appreciation of her.

Picard flushed and moved around behind the desk. "Please sit down. What can I do for you?"

Beverly resumed her seat, crossing her silken legs. "I'm a widow, Mr. Hill. My husband Jack was killed almost a year ago. He was a pilot and worked for the military. His plane crashed when he was on a mission, they won't tell me anything else. I believe he found out something he shouldn't." Beverly stopped.

Picard leaned forward. "Do you think it was an accident?"

"I don't know. For the last few months I've felt like I'm being followed. I've sent my son Wesley to school, to get him away. I've hired more servants, but I still don't feel safe in that house." Beverly took a breath and looked at him. "Believe me, Mr. Hill, I'm not a faint-hearted woman. Before I married I was a nurse. I just can't stop being afraid."

Picard leaned back in his chair. He looked at Beverly_, his_ Beverly who was not his now. "What can I do, Bev-er, Mrs. Crusher?"

"I want to hire you as a bodyguard. You will stay at my house, and accompany me when I go out." She said decidedly. "You are the most presentable of the investigators I've interviewed, so you will have to do."

_Damned with faint praise_, thought Picard. "Thank you, Mrs. Crusher." He said dryly.

Beverly tilted her head and looked at the man across the desk. It was true she had seen other detectives, but this man was different. She didn't understand, but she felt at ease with him, like she could trust him. He was not a large man, but lean and muscular. He moved with agility and authority. His deep voice made her shiver and she wondered suddenly what it might feel like to have his muscular arms around her. Shaking herself out of her reverie, Beverly reached for her bag and opened it. She took out some money and a slip of paper and placed them on his desk.

"Here is a retainer; I trust this will be sufficient for the present. My address is written down, so please be there at 5:00 pm. We dress for dinner, which is at 7." Beverly stood up to leave.

Picard also stood, puzzled by her last statement. "I'll be there, Mrs. Crusher." He escorted her to the door, enjoying the way her skirt swayed when she walked. He closed the door behind her, and reflected on the meeting. It bothered him to have her act like a stranger, but there was something different about her. She seemed softer, more feminine, and perhaps even fragile. He wondered if she kept that side of herself hidden from him and everyone else to protect her from hurt after her childhood experiences on Arveda III, and Jack's death.

Maybe it was a good thing that she didn't know him. He had a fresh start with her. He really had no choice but to play out Q's scenario and see what happened. He just hoped Q's assessment of his success would be proven wrong.

TBC

_**Next, will sparks fly between Beverly and Jean Luc? **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank for your interest and reading. Hope you enjoy~~~~~~~**_

Chapter Three—The Lonely Dame

Picard left the office and headed back to the apartment. On the way there he stopped and picked up several newspapers of the day. He spent some time fascinated, reading through them. The historian in him enjoyed it, but he also felt he needed to find out more about this time period. The afternoon was getting on when he looked through the closet and found a valise. He packed what clothes he had into it. Down on the street he got into a taxi and gave the driver the address Beverly left. A little before 5 pm he arrived at the gates of a large house surrounded by neatly kept lawns. The taxi dropped him, and he knocked at the door. A maid answered and he said, "I'm Dixon Hill, Mrs. Crusher is expecting me. " She nodded, "Yes, sir, follow me please."

The house was luxurious and large, mahogany wood with oriental carpets and windows framed in damask. Beverly was in the library, standing near the window. She saw him enter the room and he thought he saw a flash in her eyes, and then it was replaced by relief. She was wearing a lounging gown of silk gracing her lovely figure. Picard thought this era's fashions were perfect for her. She was, in Dixon Hill's lingo, a "classy dame."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hill." she smiled and his pulse raced. "I was afraid you might not come." Beverly looked behind him and spoke to the maid. "Sadie, please take Mr. Hill's suitcase to his room." She moved to the small bar in the corner. "A drink, Mr. Hill?"

Remembering that Hill was a hard drinker, he said, "No thank you Mrs. Crusher. I'm on duty." This wasn't synthahol and he wanted a clear head,

"Very well. Do please sit down. What would you like to see first?"

He knew what he would like to see, but banished the lascivious thought. He didn't really take her "danger" seriously, but if he was going to play it, he might as well go the whole way. He let his captain's experience click in.

He asked about the property and how many servants lived there. Beverly explained that the house had been left to her husband, and his family was very well off. She didn't have any live-in servants, but two maids and a chauffeur that came in daily. During this explanation, Picard allowed his arm to lie across the back of the sofa, nearly touching her shoulder and leaned closer. He could smell her perfume and she met his eyes but blushed and looked down. Her mind said to get away from him, but she was unable to get her body to move. His nearness was electric, and she had no idea why this should be so. Not even her husband and made her feel this unsettled by his mere presence.

Picard saw that Beverly had flushed so he pulled back a little. He didn't want to rush her; he wanted to let things move along slowly. "I'd like to see the house and see about security, if you don't mind. Since its getting dark, I'll look at the grounds tomorrow. With your permission, of course." Picard gave her a friendly smile.

Beverly smiled back, feeling happier than she'd felt for a while. It was because she felt safer now, she told herself. She stood up and said, "I'd be glad to give you a tour of the house after dinner. Now, Mr. Hill, I'm sure you'll excuse me, I need to dress. I'll have Sadie show you to your room."

She left him standing there, and a moment later the maid entered and showed him up the stairs to a well-appointed room with a bath. His suitcase had been unpacked and his things laid out. Picard wondered if should change his clothes again, but was aware he didn't have that many so he settled for washing up.

Picard heard the hall clock chime seven times, and made his way down the stairs. Soft light filtered up the stairwell and he followed it to the living room. It was empty, and Picard was disappointed. There was a fire burning now, and he walked over to it, and examined the contents of the mantle. He recognized several pictures of Wesley, and one of Jack, in an ancient uniform.

A slight noise made him turn to see Beverly coming in to the room, her lovely hair in curls around her shoulders. She was wearing a white gown, form-fitting and floor length. His eyes reached her face and saw her frown.

"Mr. Hill, I said we dressed for dinner."

Picard realized that she meant formally, and mentally kicked himself. Still, he thought, there wasn't much to be done. Dixon Hill would hardly own a tuxedo. "I'm sorry Mrs. Crusher, I afraid I don't have anything more formal." He blushed slightly and wondered if Q left him enough money to buy some appropriate clothing.

"Hmm. Well, this won't do." Beverly moved closer to him and briefly ran a finger down his lapel. "I have several formal functions to attend and you will need to be more properly attired. Tomorrow we'll have to get you some things to wear." Picard reveled in her closeness, breathing in her perfume.

"I can't allow you to—"

She cut him off. "Mr. Hill, if you were not working for me, you wouldn't need to dress. I consider it part of the expenses. Let's have no more discussion about it." She said firmly.

Picard almost said, yes, sir, but stopped himself in time. "Very well, Mrs. Crusher."

She smiled graciously. "Fine. Shall we sit down to dinner? She led the way to the dining room. She stood by her chair a moment until he remembered to pull it out for her. They settled in and the maid brought the food. During dinner they spoke of inconsequential things, but Picard felt the connection between them. He wondered if Beverly felt it too. Dinner was several courses and Beverly asked him about his detective experience. Remembering the books, Picard gave a fair recitation of some of Hill's past cases. She seemed interested and he caught her staring at him with sparkling blue eyes.

After dinner, they toured the house, and he noted the doors, how they locked, what windows could be vulnerable and made sure all was secure. Picard went his room and wondered what she was thinking. He wished they were back on the Enterprise and he could just go to her quarters for a cup of tea and talk like they used to do. She was just down the hall, but he missed her, and thought of all they had been through together.

The next morning, Picard presented himself downstairs for breakfast somewhat self-consciously. The clothes Dixon Hill had were obviously not up to Beverly's standards. He smiled at how easily he was fitting into the role he was supposed to play. He served himself some breakfast from the sideboard and sat down at the table.

Beverly entered the dining room wearing a printed morning frock. "I can hardly wait to go shopping. It's been a while since I've had a man around to carry the packages." She said playfully. Some of her formality from the day before had dropped, and Picard felt comfortable enough to say, "If the shopping is for me, shouldn't you carry the packages?"

Beverly looked surprised he would answer her in kind, but then smiled, "Who said it was all for you? I happen to need a few things, myself." That was true—Beverly hadn't felt like shopping for months, but today she felt at ease. "If you're finished, we should get into town before it gets crowded."

They went to the front door, and out into the misty morning. He noted the weather was natural, unprotected by the weather-net. A car complete with an elderly chauffeur drove up, stopped and opened the door for them. Beverly introduced the driver as Anthony, and they exchanged greetings.

The mist was beginning to clear when they reached one of San Francisco's main streets. Picard followed Beverly into a men's store and stood patiently while the tailor hustled around measuring and suggesting fabrics. He didn't say a word as Beverly took over the entire process, as well as purchasing him more casual clothes. He started to object, but she frowned at him and he had no desire to be faced with the Howard temper in this or his own timeline.

His arms full of packages as promised, they returned to the car, and Anthony helped him load them into the boot. That done, he joined Beverly in the back seat. "Where to now?" He was entranced when she turned to him smiling.

"I need to stop at the 23rd Street Mission for a few minutes."

"I thought you were doing some shopping for yourself?" He said.

Beverly shrugged, "Oh, well, we can always come back tomorrow. Since we're out, I might like to run up to see Wesley at school."

Picard noticed they were heading down by the wharves, in a much seedier area than even Dixon Hill's office was located. They stopped in front of an old brownstone with a dilapidated sign that indicated it was a mission.

Beverly said to the driver, "Wait here a moment, I need to speak to Father Paul." She looked at Picard, and he got out and helped her out. They started toward the building, when a car parked up the street started up, and came speeding toward them. Picard watched it, frowning and as it came closer he heard cracking sounds. One of the car windows shattered, and he realized bullets were being fired at them. This wasn't the holodeck—Beverly could be hurt!

Picard grabbed her, and wrenching open the car door bundled her in, yelling at Anthony, "Get out of here, fast!" Beverly struggled to sit up, but Picard landed on top of her as their car sped away Picard cautiously looked out the back window, but didn't see the other vehicle pursuing. He looked down at Beverly, and realized he was sprawled across her on the back seat of the limo. Her face was pale and her eyes were closed.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly.

She took a small breath and nodded, looking at him. Her eyes were filled with fear and confusion, and it cut him to the heart to see her so, He pulled her closer, murmuring reassurances, feeling her ragged breathing against his neck.

Beverly was still shaking with the knowledge that someone had tried to kill her, _kill them_, and felt grateful for the closeness of the detective. Now that some of her fear was passing away, she was conscious of his body pressed into her and relished the feeling. Not since Jack had any man aroused her, but this man was exceptional in every way. She could feel the hardness of his arms around her and wanted more.

Beverly moved her head slightly, and Picard pulled back enough to see her lips parted and the invitation in her eyes. His mouth closed over hers in a kiss, softly at first, but then more deeply. She didn't pull away and taking this for encouragement, Picard deepened his attack until she reacted. He plundered her mouth until she moaned and moved under him. Picard tasted her sweetness, and felt her fear and vulnerability, and redoubled his efforts. He couldn't believe she was kissing him the way he always wanted, and his need for her grew.

Beverly felt like she would melt from the heat he was generating within her. She thought she should stop him, but desire overwhelmed her mind, and her body answered back. It didn't matter that she barely knew him, something more primal in her moaned and arched herself up to him. She felt his desire hard against her belly which sent delicious waves of longing through her.

Picard felt her surrender, but the small part of his mind that was still rational knew this was not the time for a full-fledged seduction. He took his lips off hers, and kissed her neck, moving lower as she gasped for breath. Beverly opened her eyes and brought her arms up to draw him back to her when she saw a dark smear on the back of the seat. It took her several seconds to realize it was blood.

TBC

_**Guess this reality isn't as fun as Jean Luc thought. Next, how will Jean Luc and Beverly cope with their feelings?**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**For those who wondered, Q is back to help (!) Jean Luc.**_

_**Warning: This chapter is rated M ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**_

Chapter Four—Q to the Rescue?

"Mr. Hill." She gasped as he continued his assault on her throat. "Stop . . ." He immediately pulled up and looked at her guiltily.

"I think you're bleeding." Beverly managed to say more evenly. They both tried to sit up, and when he did, Picard felt rather light-headed. He looked down at his right arm, and noticed the dark red stain spreading through the frayed rip in his jacket_. Merde_, he thought. At once, Beverly's training took over and she helped him off with the jacket, and ripped his shirt sleeve to give her access. 

"It doesn't look too bad" she commented, "Just grazed you, but you've lost some blood. Let me have your tie." She proceeded to pull it off his neck and tied it around the wound, using the torn shirt sleeve as a compress. "Just lay back Mr. Hill, we'll be home soon."

Picard put his head back on the seat, and looked at her. "I think you can call me Dix by now." He smiled at her.

Beverly blushed and looked down but became concerned when Picard sighed and closed his eyes.

"Don't pass out, Dix, stay with me." She knew the adrenaline rush was wearing off, and he could lose consciousness, which would not be good. She cast about for a topic, and said, "Tell me about your last case."

Picard tried to tell her something from the books, but it was too hard to remember, and he soon started mumbling about their last mission in the Gerius nebula and how some Arturian traders tried to buy Data for half a ship of gold pressed latinum. Beverly was concerned, as he was clearly delusional.

The gates of the house loomed up and they sped up the driveway. Anthony helped Picard up the stairs, and got him on the bed. Beverly told him to go home, and not discuss what happened with the other servants. _Fat chance_, she thought,. Then she brought her first aid kit to Picard's room. He was semi-conscious, and she cut off the rest of his shirt, refusing to let herself admire his muscular physique. She pulled off his shoes, but hesitated at the pants. In the end, she put the covers over him as he was.

The wound had stopped bleeding, so Beverly was able to clean it with soap and water, and saw it was indeed just a graze. She treated it with iodine, and wrapped it tightly with clean bandages. He was looking at her, mumbling something she couldn't understand, but when she looked at him, she was taken aback at the emotion she saw there. He must be in shock, she thought. Her mind ran over the things to do, and thought if he got worse she would need to get him to a hospital.

Beverly went down to get a brandy, even though alcohol wasn't really recommended, she thought it might help. When she returned to the room he seemed less pale and seemed to be sleeping normally. She decided to let him rest and get some food ready for when he woke up. She gave the cook the rest of the day off, and bustled around the kitchen. She told herself she had much to do, but deep down Beverly knew that she was avoiding thinking about what had happened in the car. She shivered at the memory, and now he was upstairs, injured trying to keep her from harm.

Picard woke, feeling groggy. He tried to move, but his arm hurt like blazes. He remember the attack outside the mission. "Thanks a lot, Q." He muttered.

A flash of light announced Q's smiling presence. "You're welcome, Jean Luc. My, my, you look as terrible as you did before. Hasn't this little respite been relaxing?"

"Only if you call getting shot therapeutic."

"Verisimilitude, mon capitaine. We must keep up appearances. Now look at you-rescuing the fair maid and getting injured in the process. That should go a long way to help your cause." Q grinned wickedly.

"Keep your voice down. Beverly's around somewhere. She doesn't need to see you after the shock she's had today. This isn't a game anymore Q, Beverly could be hurt. Call off this charade and return us to the ship."

Q shook his head and considered. "No, I think not yet, Jean Luc. There are still a few moves left on the board before you can checkmate."

Picard was more awake now. "Q, I can't concentrate on what I'm trying to do if I have to worry about one of us being killed."

"Oh, very well." Q said with disgust. "No more violence. Just as it was getting interesting, too." With that, he disappeared as Beverly entered the room carrying a tray.

"Are you awake? I thought I heard someone talking."

"Oh, I must have been talking in my sleep. Is that something to eat? I'm pretty hungry." Picard said to change the subject.

Beverly put the try down on the bedside table. "I made you some of my grandmother's vegetable soup." She handed him the steaming bowl and a spoon. She sat on a chair near the bed as Picard ate. "How's the arm?" she asked shyly.

Picard looked up and smiled, "It stings like blazes, but I can move it. Thank you for taking care of it."

Beverly blushed and met his eyes and Picard thought he could get lost in the depths. "You risked your life for me. It's little enough I could do." She said.

Picard smiled again, and felt the growing connection between them, and knew she felt it too. Perhaps Q's idea to start fresh wasn't such a bad one at that. Beverly picked up the dishes and set them aside. She checked the bandage to assure herself the wound wasn't bleeding. "I want you to stay in bed this afternoon and rest."

Picard thought he would get up, but a wave of sleep overwhelmed him. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine, you just get some sleep. I have some letters to write, so I'll see you at dinner. You don't have to dress." She said laughing, and left the room with the tray.

Picard smiled, and drifted off to sleep.

When he woke, he felt better, and got out of bed. He washed up, and got out some of the new clothes Beverly had purchased for him that morning. Was it only that morning? He put on a pair of slacks and a soft sweater, as the evening was getting chilly. The house was quiet and he made his way down to the library. Beverly was there, wearing another lounging gown of green. She was setting a small table for dinner, and looked up to see him.

"Hello, are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you. My arm doesn't hurt as much, and I've had a good rest." Picard realized he had slept most of the day.

"Well good, because I've made dinner and I don't cook that often so I hope it's all right. Would you help me carry the dishes?" She spoke quickly, hiding her nervousness.

They went to the kitchen, and Picard got out some dishes, and glassware. "Did you give the servants the night off?"

"No, I'm afraid they all quit when they heard about what happened this morning. I suppose I don't blame them, but I hate being alone." Beverly bit her lower lip as she stirred something on the stove. Picard's heart melted and he wanted to put his arms around her and hold her. Instead, he moved closer and said softly near her ear, "You are not alone." She looked at him and smiled gratefully.

They ate the simple dinner in front of the fireplace in the library, and Picard enjoyed the intimacy better than the formal room they had used before. Beverly slowly relaxed and enjoyed the dinner. The food helped him revive even more, and after dinner, Picard offered to clean up Beverly was in the library with a glass of brandy. After the kitchen was done, he came back into the room to see her standing by the window with her glass. He came up behind her and said, "Penny?"

Beverly turned quickly and looked at him with raised eyebrows. "What?"

He smiled, "Penny for your thoughts."

She looked at him oddly. "That's what my grandmother always says."

"Well, then it's a good question, isn't it? What were you thinking?"

Beverly looked down, not wanting to answer. She had been thinking about him. About how her life seemed different now. She avoided a direct answer. "I'm afraid I'm a little tired. If you don't mind, I'll just turn in early." She didn't look at him as she left the room.

Picard was disappointed that he couldn't pursue any further intimate conversation, but didn't want to push things. He lingered near the fire for a while, enjoying the simplicity of it. It was one of the things he missed about his home in France. After a while, he decided he should try to get some sleep, too.

The moon was shining in the window when Picard woke, his arm feeling better. Without a chronometer he could only guess what time it was. Having slept most of the day, he was now wide awake. Getting up, he put on a robe thinking he would get a book from the library downstairs. Padding quietly on bare feet, he passed Beverly's half-open door and thought he heard something. Pausing, he listened and heard a strangled cry. Pushing the door open, he entered and took a moment to locate the bed and saw Beverly thrashing under the covers. He bent over her and was greeted by flailing arms and could see her terrified eyes.

"Beverly, wake up." Picard gently captured her wrists and sat next to her on the bed. He pulled her to him, putting his arms around her as she woke up and found herself being held, and her dream fear turned to crying. She sobbed against his chest for a minute until she realized what she was doing. _How embarrassing_, she thought, _he must think I'm an idiot_.

She pulled away a little, and found herself looking into moonlit hazel eyes. "Are you better?" He asked kindly. She nodded and surprisingly, put her head back on his chest and slid her arms around him. They sat for a few minutes while Beverly regained her composure.

Picard felt the familiar and painful conundrum take hold. He knew with little effort he could get her to respond to him, the episode in the car had shown him that, but was it what he wanted? Did he want to push her into something she would regret, and would she resent him for it? The same thought had occurred to him so often in his own timeline, and the answer left him frustrated and defeated. Beverly always backed away, choosing not to take the final step. But what should he do now?

Beverly leaned against his chest, bare beneath the robe. His warmth and arms around her made her feel safe and comfortable. She was aware of his male presence and it exhilarated her. She moved her fingers slightly up and down his back, and felt him give a small sigh, but he didn't move. Emboldened, she brushed her lips against his chest when she moved her head. Still nothing.

She pulled away again and smiled at him, "I think I'll go wash my face." She got out of bed, and he stood up, looking at her. "Would you stay here for a minute?"

Beverly went into the bathroom and tidied up, wondering why he hadn't even tried to kiss her. What had happened since the morning? Determined to get a response, she stood in the bathroom door, letting the light flood behind her before she snapped it off. She knew that would render her nightgown transparent, and noticed his sharp intake of breath as he saw her. She glided over the floor to where he was still standing, and put her arms around his neck. "Thank you for watching out for me." She said as she pulled his lips toward hers for a tender kiss.

Picard couldn't believe it. Was _she_ seducing _him_? She pressed herself against him and it strained all his willpower not to push her down on the bed. He wanted to caress her until she writhed with pleasure, feel her naked body move beneath him as he fulfilled her need. _Stop this_, he thought desperately. He tried to break away from her embrace. "I think I should go now" he said between gritted teeth. "Perhaps I should go now."

Beverly couldn't believe it. She wrapped her arms around him more tightly. _A fine time to get chivalrous,_ she thought. Her body was screaming for him to kiss her, touch her. The heat in her belly was overwhelming and she had to have him. Beverly pulled him down on the bed on top of her, the strap of her nightgown falling to reveal her breast. Picard groaned, his last shred of resistance gone as Beverly moved beneath him. He responded with a low growl and invaded her mouth as he pulled off her gown. He had wanted the first time with her to be tender and loving, but she set the pace and now his body was out of control.

Beverly exulted in his touch, the wild passion of his lovemaking. She responded in kind, astonished at her abandon. She cried out when he entered her, climaxing almost at once, but he didn't slow, and he pressed into her again and again, demanding response and as she helplessly shuddered around him, he cried out with his own release.

Morning light streamed in the windows, and Picard was the first to awaken. He lay there looking at Beverly sleeping, and marveled at her capacity for passion. After all this time, he had finally achieved his objective to have Beverly as his own. His heart was light, remembering how she had given herself to him, and how they had melded their souls. Another part of his anatomy was also responding, so Picard thought it a good idea to take a shower,

As he washed and tried to shave, he knew he needed to call Q, to get them back to the ship. He was surprised Q hadn't shown up yet to harangue him. _Q always was a sore loser_, Picard thought. Clean and dry, he reentered the bedroom to find Beverly waking up stretching. He smiled and sat next to her on the bed, "Good morning, mon belle." He said as he kissed her neck.

"Why Mr. Hill, er, I mean Dix, I didn't know you spoke French."

Picard pulled away and froze. "Beverly? Don't you know me?"

She noticed his look, and concern flooded her eyes. She put her hand on his head, and said "Are you feeling all right? Any fever? "

He grasped her hand with his own and kissed her fingers. "No, I'm fine." He managed to say through his disappointment. "Why don't you get up and I'll see about some breakfast" He moved toward the door

Beverly sat up in bed. "That's nice, but I'll want to take a look at your arm after we eat. "

.As he went downstairs his thoughts were bleak. He was devastated that she still didn't recognize him. What about last night? According to Q's requirements, when she loved him all this would be over. Surely, surely, the passion she showed him meant that? He had loved her for so long, how could he have been mistaken? Was Q playing more tricks?

TBC

_**Hope you enjoyed as much as Jean Luc and Beverly! Will Beverly ever recognize him? The next chapter will tell all!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thanks to all those who read and / or reviewed. What will happen when Beverly regains her memory? **_

Chapter Five—Home at Last

Picard went downstairs to the bright kitchen, and looked out onto the sunny lawn. It made him once again think of his home in France, and the simplicity of life there—the vineyards and gardens, the comfortable pace of the days. Suddenly, it didn't matter that Beverly didn't know him. He was here, with her. There was no Starfleet, no rank, just the two of them. Picard realized how free he felt away from the constraints of being the captain. Even off duty he could never really relax, wondering what was happening with the ship, or if they would need him. Now he could just be himself, and be with her. He knew that some way, some time, she would love him.

Beverly entered the kitchen, wearing slacks and a short-sleeved top. She smiled and came over to give him a kiss on the cheek. Picard was glad she didn't feel any embarrassment from last night. "Are you all right?" As he nodded, she looked at the stove. "No coffee?"

"Um, well, I'm not sure how to make it on this equipment." Jean Luc was getting used to coffee, but if he was going to stay here much longer he needed to find some tea.

Beverly laughed, "Right. Fine excuse to get me to make it." She busied herself with the task, and watched Picard out of the corner of her eye. She felt so happy and light this morning, and all of it had to do with this man who had walked into her soul and changed her life such a short time. She wasn't afraid anymore

She wanted to talk to him, tell him how much she cared for him, but he seemed almost shy with her this morning. She blushed as she thought of last night, but she knew it would be all right. After all, there was no rush. They had all the time in the world.

"I know," she said, as they finished their coffee. "Let's take a walk and have a picnic lunch." She smiled. Picard caught her enthusiasm and smiled back. How long had it been since he had been on a picnic? His mind sought back to his childhood in France and his mother taking him and his brother Robert out past the vineyards with a basket. "That would be nice," he admitted.

As they cleared up, Beverly packed up some food. "We can go through the woods into the meadows and stop when we feel hungry." She said. Picard loved that she was so happy. His breath caught as he watched her prepare the basket and thought she never looked more beautiful.

With Picard carrying the basket, they followed a trail along small stream. After a while the trail widened out into a field dotted with flowers. Under a large tree Beverly laid out a blanket and set out the picnic. "Let's have a campfire, I have some matches and I brought marshmallows!" Beverly said. Picard wasn't sure what marshmallows were, but was willing to go along with her wishes. Anything to keep her smiling at him like that.

He looked around for some wood, and saw there were some dead branches across the stream. He turned to Beverly, "I'll go get some wood." With that, he went to the stream bank and jumped over. As his foot hit the far side, he slipped and slid into the shallow water.

"Yeow!" He yelled. Beverly moved quickly to the edge in time to see her new lover sitting wet in the middle of the stream looking thoroughly disgusted. She started to laugh, but was cut short by his murderous look.

"Here, let me help you," she said, choking back her amusement. Beverly leaned forward, holding out her hand. Picard stood up, water streaming off him and tried to get up the steep bank. He grasped her hand and was almost to the top when the bank gave way and they both tumbled down into the water.

Beverly screamed, feeling the cold water and Picard quickly stood up, pulling her up. She sputtered, "Oh no!" as she wiped her face, then looked at him.

He looked into her sapphire eyes, and saw the emotion, the love, and he kissed her there, still standing in the middle of the stream. She sighed and put her arms around his neck. "I love you," she whispered, kissing him again. All of a sudden, Beverly felt dizzy and looked at Picard. "Jean Luc, what's going on?" She saw her arms around him and looked down at their feet in the stream, "What are we doing here?"

Before Picard could answer the unwelcome flash announced Q's presence. He stood on the stream bank wearing a Star Fleet uniform. "Well, captain and doctor, My, my you do get yourselves into the most interesting situations." He sniggered.

Beverly pulled away and scrambled up the bank, with Picard following. Brushing the mud from her hands, she glared at Q. "What the hell has been going on here?"

Picard tried to answer, but Q interrupted. "Ah, doctor, just a little experiment that we thought might do the trick. It obviously has been successful, eh, Jean Luc?" Q said smugly.

Beverly looked at Picard, her face darkening. "Jean Luc, what's he talking about?" Realization and memory dawned on her as she frowned at him.

"Beverly, let me explain—" Once again, Q cut him off. "It's really quite simple. I brought you both here, but you didn't retain any memory of your relationship with the Captain. It was up to him to change your mind. And obviously he did."

Picard exploded, "Q, shut up!" He turned to her. "Beverly, let me tell you—" This time Beverly stopped him. "You mean you and Q cooked this whole thing up?" Her eyes flashed as her well-known temper took hold. "You took advantage of the situation last night—how dare you." Even though she knew she had been the instigator, she was too angry to be rational. "How could you?" she blazed at him, turning and walking toward the house.

Picard followed her, shouting, "Beverly," when he found himself flashed back to his quarters on the Enterprise. "Not now, Q." He roared to his empty room. He stood in the semi-darkness, disoriented. "Computer, what is the date and time?"

"Stardate 46723, 1947 hours." Came the disembodied reply.

It was only 10 minutes from the time he left the ship, how many days ago? Picard then asked, "Computer, location of Dr. Crusher."

"Dr. Crusher is in her quarters."

Picard reached for his combadge, and realizing he was still in his wet clothes, snorted with disgust. Better to be dry and in uniform before trying to talk with Beverly, he reasoned. He squelched out of the clothes and headed for the shower.

Beverly found herself in her quarters, also wet and very angry. How dare Jean Luc! Obviously HE had retained his memory and played a game with her. Oh, how embarrassing to be fooled that way. She walked up and down until she realized she was still wet. Cursing, she headed for the shower. With the hot water coursing around her, she allowed herself to remember the night and the passion she had felt. Jean Luc was a wonderful lover, intense and tender, and as she thought of him, longing filled her again. _Stop this_, she said to herself and she came out of the bathroom. _He took advantage of me, of the situation. _

Beverly wrapped herself in a warm gown and replicated a cup of tea to calm her nerves. What should she do now? How would she face him? She told him she loved him. Would Jean Luc try to continue what had been started? In the midst of her ruminations, her com link went off.

"Damn" she said as she walked over to her desk. It was Jean Luc. "Beverly, we need to talk."

"Jean Luc Picard, just stay away from me!" She almost yelled and cut off the communication.

How dare he? Her anger was back on full boil. She would rather be angry than have to think about what to do next. She started to pace the room when there was a flash, and as she turned, Beverly saw that Vash was standing in her quarters.

"Dr. Crusher, it's good to see you again," Vash said with a small smile.

"What, are you in on this, too?" Beverly glared at her, glad to vent her anger on someone.

"No," Vash said as she moved to sit on a chair. "As a matter of fact, when Q told me what he had done, I was very angry."

Beverly faced Vash slightly mollified. "So what do you want?"

"Dr. Crusher, Beverly, I don't know you very well, but I do know Jean Luc" Vash started. Beverly couldn't believe it. _Did ALL Jean Luc's women need to come and tell me about it?_ Vash continued, "The time we spent together on Risa, and later when I came aboard the Enterprise were just fun. I knew then as I know now that Jean Luc never loved me—I was just a stopgap for him."

Beverly's anger left her. She looked down, and said softly, "There have been others."

Vash said boldly. "So? If you wanted him, why didn't you take him? He was always yours. You pushed him away and he turned to me. I wasn't the right one for him and neither was anyone else."

Vash got up and stood in front of her. "Q tells me that you told Jean Luc you loved him." Beverly looked at her and nodded. "Well then", Vash said, "What's your problem? "

"It's not that simple, Vash" Beverly said, tightly. "There's so much that we've been through together, and now this. It would change our whole relationship. I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Vash crossed her arms and looked like Q for a moment. "Well, if I were you, I'd jump on Jean Luc as fast as I could before someone else latches on to him. Or," Vash said looking at her intently. "leave him alone—get off the Enterprise and let him go on with his life."

Beverly looked at her shocked and Vash smiled. "Just some advice from an old explorer." Vash said, "All right Q, I'm ready. Goodbye, Doctor, I hope my prescription will work." With a smile and a flash of light, she was gone.

Jean Luc sat slumped on a chair in his quarters. He wasn't to be on duty for 48 hours. Since Beverly wouldn't speak to him he didn't know what to do, but his quarters seemed like a prison. He went to level 36 and walked for an hour, around the near-deserted corridors. His arm still hurt some, but sickbay was the last place he wanted to go. Picard wondered when Beverly would be calm enough to talk with him. He had seen her temper rage before, but not about their relationship. He sighed and wandered down to 10 Forward. It was quiet, not even Guinan was around. Just as well, as Picard didn't think he could stand her questioning looks. He didn't want to talk to anyone, and suddenly had an idea.

Making his way to holodeck 2, he paused at the computer padd. "Computer, run Picard-Hill Program Alpha 3."

"That program is in progress." Came the reply. "Enter when ready."

Who was in the program? Picard thought. He walked into a hallway in Dixon Hill's office building, and made his way to Hill's office. It was dark in the waiting room, but a light burned in the back office. He opened the door to see Beverly sitting behind Hill's desk, toying with an old-fashioned pencil. She was wearing his favorite blue off-the-shoulder sweater. She looked up guiltily.

He came around the desk. She was mute and he didn't know how to continue. "Beverly." He started, but she interrupted him.

"I'm sorry, Jean Luc." She said with her head down,

"What? Beverly, look at me."

She moved her eyes up to his, and saw the man she knew as the captain, as well as the PI Dixon hill she'd spend the last few days with. She realized they were the same, had been the same for all the years she had known him. When she was in that alternate reality she hadn't been afraid of love or of being hurt and it felt wonderful. If this man, her friend and lover could give her that why shouldn't she take it?

Now he shook his head and said, "You have no reason to be sorry, Beverly. I'm the one who took advantage of the circumstances."

She sighed to herself, exasperated. He always wanted to take blame on himself for everything. "It's not your fault, Jean Luc, its Q's. I think in your situation I would have done the same. I mean if you would have tried to tell me anything about our past together, I would have thought you were crazy. But now . . . . We've kind of jumped ahead and I don't want to ruin anything between us."

Picard took her hand and kissed it. "We have lots of time, Beverly. What if we start slow, say, dinner in my quarters?"

She smiled up at him. "I'd like that." He kept her hand as he helped her out of the chair. He put his arm around her waist and they walked out of Dixon Hill's office, turning out the old-fashioned lights as they left.

From a darkened corner of the room, Q emerged with a look of satisfaction on his face. "Well done, mon capitaine. But, I'll be watching." In a flash he was gone.

THE END

_**Thank you for reading and reviewing. I'm glad if you enjoyed the story, writers thrive on your support!**_


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